Think of Me Softly
by TutorGirlml
Summary: pre-4x15 one shot: Killian Jones intends to atone for his past with Ursula before anyone else gets hurt...even if it means never seeing his beloved blonde Savior again...


_I just have to say that I am so glad "Once" is back! We're only just starting the second half of the season, but I'm SO jazzed and re-inspired. I know this whole scenario may quickly go in another direction with the new episode, but I still needed to write out some of my thoughts and concerns over new developments._

_I still don't own these lovely characters; I'm just playing in their world. The title comes from a line in "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller. John Proctor says it to Abigail William earlier on; he is trying to walk away and do the right thing, and he says in goodbye, "I may think of you softly from time to time, but I'll cut off my own hand before I'll ever reach for you again…" It has a completely different context within that play, but I have always thought it is a beautiful phrase. I could see Killian thinking something similar within the plotline of this one shot. He's trying to do the right thing and is hoping that Emma will remember him fondly when he's gone._

_I'd love to hear what you think, of course. Your reviews are a true gift!_

"Think of Me Softly"

_By: TutorGirlml_

The morning has dawned slate-grey and blustering in Storybrooke, Maine as frigid, relentless waves beat against the craggy rock and rough sand of the shore unceasingly – an untamed back and forth rhythm that has always soothed and haunted Killian Jones in equal measure. The sea had called to him first as a young naval lieutenant, and then as an ageless buccaneer pirate. He had made the sea his home, his ship his love, and his crew his only family for years uncounted. Yet, now, Killian stands uneasily at the shore; the icy, roiling water licking at the toes of his boots, then retreating, only to return once again for more of the same. It is strange to feel a sense of dread, of foreboding, for the waves and the predicted undertow that have always been his element and his solace. Still, the feeling is there all the same, and Killian Jones hesitates, doubting his decision momentarily before he shakes off the uncertainty and steels himself to move forward, to take another step into the strong grasp of the incoming tide.

Ursula's deal had been quite clear. There is no way around it, and Killian will not allow anyone else to make the required sacrifice. He is not entirely sure the sea witch would accept anyone else, even if he were willing to falter in this unpleasant duty. No doubt Emma – his Swan, and at last his freely acknowledged love, would see it as her duty as the Savior, as a hero, and would try to take his place. Her family too – heroes all – would try to talk him out of this, swear that there must be another way. Killian finds their unwavering hope and optimism lovely and comforting, but in this case, completely unfounded. He knows what he must do…and he _will _do it.

Quite possibly, he should have known as soon as Emma announced that Ursula was one of the new arrivals in town that it would come to this. Their meeting once before, long ago, has not been forgotten, and he will accept due retribution for his past actions. The sea witch has reason for her hatred and bitterness, just as Killian had in all those years seeking revenge. Until his Swan burst upon his sight, giving him light and something else to live for, he had thought of nothing but vengeance and pain. Without Emma, without the heroes' cause he has now become a part of, what might he be doing? How much different from Ursula, Cruella, or Maleficent would he be?

The wind whips up, putting white caps on the waves as Killian takes another step in, away from the shore. The sky grows darker, wilder, a strike of lightning showing off in the distance as a jagged fork over the water, the wind whistling and wailing around him, crying in his ears. And Kilian wonders how it will happen; taking the reaction of his surroundings as a sign that the sea has come to claim him and will not let him go. Will Ursula catch him and pull him under, crushing him with her own tentacles? Will she let the water itself sweep him up, drag him deeper, and fill his lungs until he drowns? Or will she send one of the more fearsome ocean creatures at her disposal to devour him? He is to be a willing sacrifice, or destruction will be wrecked on those he has come to hold dear and this place that is as close to a home as he has owned in centuries.

Drawing in a breath that is tight but determined, the former pirate wills his nerves to iron and takes a third step into the sea. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he clenches it hard, telling himself the method does not matter. He _will not _be turning back, regardless. Killian only wishes he could have said goodbye to his love, that he could explain to Emma that he never wants to leave her, that he would willingly spend eternity by her side and at her beck and call if he could, but this is what he must do. She deserves to know that being allowed to bury his nose in her soft, apple-scented hair and put his arms around her have been the happiest achievements of his long life, but he knows without doubt that he cannot risk such a farewell. Even now, if she knew what he was doing, she would be rushing in to stop him and save the day.

Emma will be furious, will rail at him for putting himself in danger, and hurt too – though he hopes not devastated and heartbroken. She will still have her family and her boy, and even if she is pained, she will have time to recover. He cannot bear for any of them to be hurt when he can prevent it, for any of them who have helped him find the person he once was to pay for his past mistakes and sins.

Unfortunately, almost as though his fervent thoughts of her have called her to him, Kilian's blood freezes in his veins and his heart sinks in his chest, when he hears Emma shouting his name and growing closer all the time, as she comes running up behind him. Her words ring frantically, echoing off the rolling waves, and he can hear the panic in her tone and the aching concern, "Killian! Come back! What are you thinking?!"

He nearly snarls in frustration, not letting himself look over his shoulder to see her lovely face. He is not angry with her, but the situation, and his voice cracks roughly with the strain when he warns her off, praying that she will heed him and stay away. Blindly, he tries to keep her on the shore, though he knows that nothing holds Emma Swan back when she has made up her mind. If she is hurt by being here…if his sacrifice is for nothing… He cannot bear to think of it, and he tries to grit out some sort of explanation, no matter how low and harsh it sounds. "Swan…please…do not get any closer to the water. It isn't safe. I wronged Ursula long ago, and am paying for it now. You…you have to let me go."

It does no good, and Emma pays him no mind, just as he had feared. Moments later, Killian feels the impact of her slamming into him at a run, nearly sending them both toppling into the churning swells, as her arms wrap around him, clutching at the lapels of his jacket when her hands cross his chest. Her face burrows into the back of his neck, breath warm against his chilled skin as she hisses, "You can't do this! Come back! Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together." Emma swallows reflexively, and it is then that he feels her trembling beneath the strength that is present in her grip. When she chokes out brokenly, "You're _choosing_ to leave me," Killian's head bows in defeat, and he has to clench his eyes closed to stop any tears escaping. All his effort to protect her, and he has injured her all the same.

The reformed pirate truly pauses now, wondering once more if there is some other way, if with Emma's magic and her stubborn determination they can stop Ursula's plans. He is near the point of relenting, backing up to the shoreline at least to hear Emma out, or to explain to her and tell her everything, so she understands why he feels he has to do this, when further out in front of them, the water sucks into a growing whirlpool, rising and creeping inexorably closer to where they stand. Darkness whirls in the center, until, breaking the surface suddenly, the sea witch rises before them, devious pleasure in her eyes and murderous intent all over her face.

Killian does step back then, despite all his previous resolve to go peacefully. Now that Emma is with him, he wants to keep Ursula at a distance and himself between his adversary and his love.

Ursula's deep, rumbling chuckle echoes over the space between them, and she cocks her head, studying them intently. "Captain, do you really think you will foil my plans now? After what you've done, and how long I have waited, I _will _settle the score between us." The silence is tense as she waits, but when no response is offered, Ursula adds with an arched brow, "After all your claims to value honor and good form, you don't really intend to go back on your word to save your own skin, do you?"

She leaves unspoken the threat that if he backs out it won't end well for his friends. She had made that perfectly clear when she told him her demands. Narrowing his eyes angrily at the very insinuation of cowardice, Killian speaks up. "I'm here awaiting you, am I not? I agreed to your terms, but I have a right to be wary. I shan't be throwing my life away for nothing. You can surely understand that I do not want you taking back your promise either. Emma is still to remain unharmed, even though she is here instead of safe back in town. If I let you take me, without fighting, then you are to leave and let everyone else in this town alone. That was the agreement."

The old nemeses stare each other down for a long stretch of seconds, neither looking away, and it is all Emma can do not to interrupt. Killian knows her well enough to have no doubt of that. Not jumping into the middle of this must be killing her, but he cannot risk letting her get by him. He would not put it past Ursula to strike out at his love to pay him back for his betrayal.

There is an almost imperceptible nod from the sea witch, but her dark, fathomless eyes do not leave Killian – as if she expects him to employ some sort of pirate trick to rob her of her prize. A dip of Killian's head affirms their accord, but that is when Emma can no longer refrain from objecting.

"Killian, no!" she cries, anger, fear, and desperation making her voice carry.

Ursula's smile quirks up even farther at the scene before her. "My, my, my, the little blonde Savior cares a great deal more for a scoundrel like you than you deserve, Hook." She pauses, then cackles horribly and her tentacles rise to snake towards them. "Good. There will be someone left as adrift and broken as I was all those years ago."

Neither Emma nor Killian responds to the sea witch, knowing time has run out and her mind will not be changed. Killian does, however, finally allow himself to look Emma in the eye – one last glimpse of her lovely face to send him on his way. He shakes his head, trying to tell her despite his throat strangled with emotion to let him go, let him do this, it is the way things have to be.

Her eyes are so stormy that he pictures the mingled thrill and terror of riding out a squall on the Jolly Roger, and he desperately wishes he had enough time to pull her to him and kiss her farewell. But, he will not risk her being in contact with him when the tentacles finally surround his body to pull him under.

Emma is having no such heroics. Killian can almost see the moment her intentions solidify and she vows not to let him go, that she will not lose one more person she loves if she can do anything to stop it. Without a word of warning to him, or their gloating enemy, she closes her eyes, flings her arms forward, and sends out the brightest and strongest bolt of magic that Killian has seen her produce yet.

The impact when her magic connects with a startled Ursula – who doesn't have time to throw up any sort of defense – is intense. The blast of power sends all of her tentacles crashing into the water, limp, rocking her backwards and knocking Killian off his feet. Water splashes up around them both, soaking them completely, and Killian flounders to quickly stand again, spluttering and straining to see where his old foe has gone, how she is undoubtedly regrouping.

Eyes narrowed, the sea witch's voice rings out over the water, which is strangely calmed now, the waves back to their regular, gentle swells. Still hateful and derisive, but there is now a tinge of pained fear in her tone – and perhaps even a bit of grudging respect for Emma and her abilities. "This isn't over, Captain," she warns, retreating even as she makes his skin crawl warily with the promise. "I'll bide my time. The Savior can't protect you forever." Then she sinks back into the waves and is gone.

Killian whips around to Emma in awe and surprise. "What was that?! What did you just do?!"

Her face looks smugly pleased for about two beats while she quips lightly, "Mostly it was the emotion powering me that made it so much stronger than usual. But I might have conjured some electricity into it…" here she almost winks with pride. "That can't feel very good when someone is in the water."

Killian beams at her, wanting to sweep her up and devour her in kisses, but then, before his very eyes, her face crumbles and his heart falls, knowing he has done this to her.

"What were you thinking, Killian?" she whispers, turning imploring eyes that have forgotten her success on him and are begging him to make her understand. He promised to survive, and again he has nearly thrown his life away.

Letting his eyes fall from hers, Killian feels shame burn through him at Emma's visible pain. Reaching out for her with both hand and hook, placating, he moves to pull her close, to wrap his arms around her and hold on tight, as he was afraid to do with Ursula near, but Emma shakes her head vigorously and wards him off.

"No," she says vehemently, spearing him with her stark gaze, "not this time. I can't just melt, let you kiss me, and forget this ever happened. I thought you understood after you got your heart back from Gold. If you don't, I'm going to say it again more clearly. You _are not _expendable to me. You _are not _the weakest link because of your past. You can't sacrifice yourself and think I'll just carry on and be alright in time. Killian, I – I think I might…love you. But I can't let myself go there if you're going to recklessly stick your neck out anytime there's a chance for you to be a hero." She shakes her head in frustration as tears she tries to hold back in her anger spill over and trail down her cheeks. She quickly averts her eyes and looks away.

This time, Killian cannot help himself, cannot keep from reaching out to cradle her cheek gently in the palm of his hand and turn her face back to his. His touch is gentle, but his words are fervently sworn when he answers, "You are right, Darling. I do still feel that if someone must be sacrificed, it should be me. I am sorry though, and I shall endeavor to strengthen my instinct for self-preservation. However, you must understand something, Emma. If it comes down to your life or mine; if I can save your life or safety by forfeiting my own, I will always choose yours. I cannot act in any other way."

He leans in to place a kiss on her forehead, struggling mightily to retain calm and control amidst the wild tangle of emotions churning within: relief, anger, love, fear, resolve, and gratitude. That Emma would show up and face down the sea witch for him without even knowing their history, humbles him and renews his hope. He would do anything for this shining, awe-inspiring, once-Lost Girl, but he cannot promise to be something he is not. Not if remaining safe and sound would ever come at the cost of her well-being.

Finally, she swallows hard, nods her head once in understanding and acceptance, clasps his forearm, and stands on her tiptoes to lightly kiss the scar that lines his cheek. "Just as long as you understand that goes both ways, Captain," she replies quietly.

He does not like the sound of that – would never be able to live with himself if she died for him – but he knows he won't change her mind, just as she cannot change his, and he knows she is not completely satisfied with the truce they have reached either. Both of them being who they are, this may be the best peace they will come to.

Both of them seem to decide so at the same time, suddenly hauling each other in close, arms running over backs and waists and shoulders, lips meeting in a clash of fire and emotion, mouths dueling when they finally kiss. Neither lets go, and Killian groans in relief and pleasure as Emma catches the drops of ocean saltwater that have beaded on his throat and chest with her lips and tongue, just as she whines with adorable urgency when he tilts her head back further, hand and hook steadying on her waist and trails soft kisses from the indented crease in her chin, along her jawline to the delicately sensitive spot behind her ear.

They sway on the spot, both nearly falling into the surf in a tangle of limbs, but the rest of the world has effectively ceased to exist for the moment, so lost in each other are captain and savior. He may never give up his reckless bravado, and she may never shake the fear of his leaving her as so many have done before. Killian may never completely stop doubting himself or feel he deserves Emma's love and protection, and Emma may never fully understand how someone can love her so wholeheartedly as to willingly lay down his life for hers, want her so much it's like breathing, when for so long no one wanted or cared for her at all. Still, bits of those scars and reservations fade away or become understood and healed as they stand kissing on the shoreline. The stubborn differences that remain are absorbed in the crash into each other that continues unabated. They cling to one another tighter, and the water laps at their ankles, until nothing can come between or tear them apart.

Neither Killian nor Emma yet realize that their kiss has warmed the air around them and brought out the sun in the sky.


End file.
